


The Reminiscence of Death

by Hana672



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: At least one ghost, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Don't worry, Fluff and Angst, Horror, Human AU, I mean it is a morgue au so, I'll post warnings, I'm getting better with angst everyone, M/M, Mild Language, Murder Mystery, My attempt at mystery, Mystery, Relationship(s), Slow Burn, We'll get to the romantic relationships, Will update tags as story progresses, Yep that's definitely a thing, for now, ghost au, have mercy, morgue au, my attempt at horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hana672/pseuds/Hana672
Summary: Working at a morgue wasn’t exactly Logan Mora’s ideal employment endeavor. A high ranking physician would have been adequate, maybe even a respected surgeon if he was lucky, but for now, a morgue attendant would have to suffice the discontented young man.Despite Logan’s continued effort for a transfer, the stoic man soon grew accustomed to his simplistic and unimaginably dulled down conduct.As awful as it sounds, even the bodies they received seemed to meld together alongside this dreary lifestyle…Until this body.This one was sitting straight up on the stainless-steel table, the cadaver’s clover green eyes staring directly at the rather stunned morgue attendant.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	The Reminiscence of Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome!
> 
> If you're new to my works then boy howdy, are ya in for some detailed chapters! I sometimes go... overboard, but hopefully my stories make up for it. Now, fair warning, I've never really written in the mystery genre, or horror for that matter... But hopefully it'll turn out okay!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this first chapter! And maybe, oh I don't know, stick around for more?  
> (Btw, I don't know how often I'll update this, but I'm aiming for one chapter every month so...)

_...Now, the body. _

The white coated man quietly placed the now spotless scalpel down upon the table after his thorough dusting. His footsteps echoed through the ever silent mortuary as the slim man made his way across the waxed floor below to the cadaver’s resting place. 

Picking up his pen, the man began his external description…

_ Name of deceased, Alex W. Oxenfree. _

_ Race, Asian American. _

_ Sex, male. _

_ Hair, brown - roots: dyed black, clean cut to nape of neck - bangs: approximately 6 inches in length. _

_ Eye color, hazel. _

_ Approximate age, 27. _

_ Identifying features, dimple under left eye, multiple scars and scrapes near collarbone and both forearms, black trident tattoo embedded above right breast. _

“...That makes three now.” The coated man softly remarked.

It was quite a big city,  _ The Big Apple _ as they say, so most bodies that the Wayward Hospital received blended together. Each one unique yet, somehow, just a blur in afterthoughts.

With the amount the hospital had, the man never paid much attention to memorizing  _ every _ cadaver’s external features… But these bodies were quite the oddity.

“Three bodies in the span of three months,” The coated man closed his eyes, leaning his body upon a nearby table. “One body for each month…”

The gears wrenched, creaking and turning as his mind began to properly think.

Receiving one body a month wasn’t the focus of the man’s past time, the hospital received plenty more within a single month. The peculiarity that distracted the normally detached worker was the cadavers identifying features, specifically their external wounds.

Every mark, cut, and tear was in the same spots across the three lifeless bodies.

Tattoos and symbols were commonplace in cities, so the little black trident never struck the man as out of place, but the  _ scars _ …

What are the odds that three bodies have the  _ exact _ same scars and scrapes in the  _ exact _ same places?

Tattoos, possible, yes.

Seemingly random cuts? Highly improbable.

_ There are three now…  _ The clicking of his pen raised in velocity. The man’s thoughts now sprinting down this strange rabbit hole.  _ Meaning, there’s a high chance another body will show up in exactly thirty days… It must be on purpose. Does it have to do with the tattoos? A gang, perhaps? ...There must be a more significant similarity between the victims. A dividing factor that connects them- _

The pen ceased it’s clicking.

Realizing where he stood, metaphorically  _ and _ literally, the man swiftly abandoned his former thoughts.

It wasn’t his concern.

It wasn’t his job.

_ His _ job was to efficiently prep and prepare the deceased bodies for the medical examiner… If only said examiner could show up on time,  _ then _ everything would truly be efficient.

But as the unfortunate saying goes,  _ nobody is perfect _ .

Checking his watch, for what felt like the hundredth time within the night, the man’s brows furrowed beneath his black rimmed glasses.

“Tch… Of course he’s late.” Clicking his tongue, the coated man suddenly straightened up, turning his attention to the doorway of the morgue.

Leaving the noted clipboard on the entrance table, the man exited the morgue, his slim stature reflecting through the many silver containers holding the remains of so many forgotten memories. 

******

When asked, the majority of people would say that the ambience of hospitals never sits right with them. The constant smell of chemicals, the sickeningly clean areas, the reflective, white stained  _ everything _ , not exactly a “homey” vibe.

There’s also something else.

An undertone hidden beneath the façade of the ever stated promise of  _ safety _ and  _ warmth _ … Hospitals somehow always manage to organize a sense of undeniable  _ dread _ .

Though, these sorts of ordinary feelings never “hit home” for the young morgue attendant.

In fact, the man quite enjoyed the atmosphere hospitals had to offer.

The quiet facility was like a second home for him.

The coated man briskly walked through the crystal clear hallways, ending his venture once he reached the floor’s stationed help desk.

The usual night help-desk attendant sat in his usual spot making his usual round of calls. Even with his age, the man looked quite young. 

After glancing upwards towards the morgue assistant, the young looking man jumped slightly, stumbling to put down his clunky phone.

“O-Oh! Sorry, Logan! I completely lost track of time!” The young attendant reached his freckled hand over towards his computer mouse. “I can check on your transfer submission right now-”

“No, no. I’m not here for that,” Logan corrected. “Have you seen Doctor Eret, by chance?”

“A-Ah. Gone off on his lonesome again, has he?” 

“Yes. Sadly,” The coated man let out a slumped nod. “The man  _ really _ needs an alarm- Better yet, a  _ bell _ so I can find whatever spot he’s hidden himself in. Anyways, Mr. Lin, have you seen where exactly he-”

Careful for his glasses, the young attendant shook his head.

“Now, Logan, what did we talk about? No last names! Really now, call me Patton!”

“Please, Mr. Lin, you’re my senior. It’s only natural to-” Logan spoke.

“No, no! None of that!” Or tried too, at least. “I insist. Besides, I’m only a few years older than ya!”

“A-Ah. Well,  _ eight _ years, to be precise… Which, in fact, is a bit more than a few-”

“To-may-to, tuh-ma-to! It’s  _ fine _ !” Patton, adjusting his glasses, leaned over the tinted blue counter. “Anywho, your missing Doc is hiding in the new storage closet right over there. Ol’ Bugs over here wanted to take a lil’  _ bunny _ nap, apparently!”

Logan, nodded in appreciation… His irritated sigh at the man’s joke going unnoticed by the giggling attendant.

Swiftly, without hesitation, Logan strode across the hushed lower lobby. 

The door to the newly renovated closet whizzed open, high pitched creaking fading out of the small area.

“JESUS- LOGAN!” A gravely voice yelped.

By his looks, the hunched over man within the well-kept closet looked well within his years, though, his mannerisms screamed “I may be old, but I  _ will _ and  _ can _ punch a man”.

“...What did we discuss about  _ smoking _ ?” Logan straightened his perfectly placed glasses, his intimidation factor rising.

“Uh…” Doctor Eret slinked his unlit lighter sheepishly back into his pocket along with his cigarette bud. “Sooo, L-Logan… How are you doing this fine morning…?”

“It’s the evening,  _ sir _ .”

The slouching man swallowed the lump in his throat that had grown from his assistant’s rather harsh tone.

“H-Huh… Really? Time sure does fly…”

“ _ Sir _ ,” Another gulp. “I believe it is  _ far _ past due for our internal examination of the body of Mr. Oxenfree, wouldn’t you agree? So, if you will.” Logan gestured toward the dimly lit hall leading back down to the quiet morgue.

Doctor Eret sighed a low chuckle.

“You know, for a man constantly hovering over me for a transfer, you sure are a hard-working assistant.” He smirked devilishly up at the now impatient looking assistant.

“...I may not have a  _ fondness _ for this job, but I make it a point to never  _ half-ass the work I do- _ ” Logan caught himself, coughing back his response. “ _ Ahem _ … My apologies, but it is  _ already _ half past nine. The internal examination needs to be completed before ten. We are already well past our original starting time. We don’t want  _ another _ ‘miss placed’ certificate, do we,  _ Doctor Eret _ ?”

The slouching man externally cringed at the use of such formality.

“Oof. Last names? Seriously? Somethin’ must’ve  _ really _ riled you up today, huh,  _ Mr. Mora _ ?” The Doctor stood to his full height, that being somewhere around 6 feet, grinning down at the now petite looking morgue assistant.

Logan’s eyes began to flicker, along with his annoyance. 

“Other than incompatant fools unaware of the passage of time?”

“Ha ha. Alright. Okay. Now that’s just childish-” 

“A concept that has been with humanity for, let me check my facts,” The assistant slipped out what seemed to be a bundle of white note cards, reading one of them intently. “Oh, yes- A  _millennia_?”

“ _ Geez _ ! Alright, alright!” Doctor Eret threw his hands up in defeat. “Just give me ten minutes and-”

“Five.”

“I’LL BE RIGHT OUT.” The Doctor began quickly relighting his neglected cigarette bud.

“I’m looking forward to it,  _ Virgil _ .” Logan softly chuckled.

Virgil waved knowingly towards his walking morgue assistant.

******

Reentering the secluded morgue, Logan glanced down at his watch again.

“Another all-nighter, I suppose…” The now yawning man mumbled.

Knowing his “beloved” boss, the young assistant had about seven minutes to spare before the old smoker  _ finally _ made his way down to complete his job.

_ Re _ -double checking the work it was, then…

Snatching his clipboard, Logan slowly stepped forward, traversing deeper into the cold morgue room. He walked onwards, keeping his dark, blue eyes fixated on his past notes.

_ Name of deceased, Alex W. Oxenfree. _

Another step… 

_ Race, Asian American. _

A lean to the side… 

_ Sex, male. _

The raspy flip of the paper… 

_ Hair, brown - roots: dyed black, clean cut to nape of neck - bangs: approximately 6 inches in length. _

A peek upwards… 

_ Eye color, haz- _

A complete cease in movement.

Logan’s limps stood stock still. The man held in a chill, breath of dead air. His eyes stared warily at the sight before him.

The body of Alex W. Oxenfree was sat upwards on the slick, stainless steel table. Nothing propped the deceased man’s spinal cord up. No block. No ample tool.  _ Nothing _ .

The man sat there. 

All on his own. 

The cadaver cocked it’s head with surprising force, a deep cracking sound echoing through the still morgue.

Glowing, clover green eyes stared directly at the sea-deep, blue eyes of the vacant morgue assistant… 

**Author's Note:**

> If any of you know where Virgil's last name is from then you are my new favorite person. XD


End file.
